


glory days

by vaisja



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Compliant, Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Spoilers, Bucky Barnes is Alive, Crack Treated Seriously, Gen, I don't know what to tag this honestly, I mean..kind of, Identity Reveal, POV First Person, Steve Rogers is OLD, at least as serious as the author can treat it, hand-wavy timeline
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-10
Updated: 2019-05-13
Packaged: 2020-02-29 17:34:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18782908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vaisja/pseuds/vaisja
Summary: I started volunteering at an old folks home through one of those adopt a grandparent program. My "grandpa" Steve says some funny things. They're sometimes weird, and I think he genuinely believes the things he tells me, but I think he just has Alzheimer or dementia. Which is sad, but he's a nice guy so I wanted to record our interactions because I'm very fond of him(Or a fic about Steve Rogers being in an old folks home)originally posted on wattpad by toastybeverage





	1. Day 1

**Author's Note:**

> this is not my story but i think this deserves a better platform than wattpad. you can find the original [here](https://www.wattpad.com/story/187121044-grandpa-steve) (along with a story about the amish)
> 
> if you're confused by the timeline so were we so we decided that this takes place in an alternate dimension created by steve where the actual steve dies in the war and he takes dead steve's place and jumps out of the valkyrie and works with peggy in the SSR. they rescue bucky and together they defeat hydra and they grow old. 
> 
> bc the timeline doesn't make sense toastybeverage killed peggy off in a kayaking accident. this is specifically bc steve needed to be in the home. 
> 
> enjoy!

When I signed up for the adopt a grandparent program, I didn't think much of it. I signed up because the school was looking for kids to do it and I've always been a fan of community service and giving back. My own grandparents died when I was pretty young, so I didn't have any expectations going in.

My only previous interactions with old people had been at church. The old folks there were always nice to me, although they did chastise or scold me for reading books during the service or fidgeting with the rope around my robe when I sat up at the front by the altar. My parents told me to just smile and nod. They weren't my parents so I should take their words with a grain of salt, but they were old so I should be polite about it. 

We carpooled after school to the old folks home. Sorry, the senior assisted living facility. It was called the Golden Leaf Living Facility. The name reminded me of that poem from The Outsiders. Stay golden, Ponyboy. A little ironic in the naming since most of the people here were past their golden days. The name seemed almost mean in that sense. 

I had driven two other students to the facility, and we met up with a few other cars and faculty members. There were twelve of us total, and only nine of us were students. 

We went in and met with a lady I think was a nurse. She talked with Mrs. Lain, the sponsor of this whole volunteer opportunity. She led us into this room with large windows that looked out into a garden with lots of flowers and bird feeders. It looked like there were a few games set up on the lawn. There was a batchi ball set, I could see a few croquet mallets and corn hole. The room was spacious and had lots of sitting area. There were plenty of tables, but also couches and chairs. There was a coffee station in the far corner and we were told we were welcome to it, and that it was decaf. 

The room had old people in it. That might not sound nice, but it was the truth. We were led to different parts of the room to different old folks by various employees of Golden Leaf. 

I was brought over to a little couch where an old man sat. 

He had white hair and wore a long sleeve shirt that was solid blue. He was reading a book. I couldn't tell what it was, but he was about halfway through. The nurse led me over.

"Mr. Grant, this is Holly. She's part of the adopt a grandparent program."

"It's nice to meet you," I said, sticking out my hand to shake his.

"Likewise." He had a strong grip for a man his age. "Please, sit." He gestured to the seat across from him and folded down the corner of the page he was on in his book. It looked like it was a biography on someone, but I couldn't make out who. 

I didn't know what to say. They had promoted us on questions before we drove over. I hadn't really paid attention. I didn't think it would be so hard to think of things to talk about. What do you say to someone that lived through the great depression, the moon landing, and Vietnam? How do you bridge that generational gap? It hit me-small talk. It had been the same since the dawn of time. 

"How are you?" I asked.

"I'm doing well," he chuckled, "but you look very nervous."

I blushed. "Sorry, I was just trying to think of something more interesting than small talk."

"We can start with some getting to know you. Maybe we have something in common to talk about."

"Okay, yeah. Yeah, we might. Uh, have you always lived in New York?" I asked. 

"I grew up here. Brooklyn. And then I enlisted in the army, fought in World War II. Lived in D.C for awhile. Then New York." He smiled like he had just heard something funny, or a secret that only he knew, "then I suppose I technically went back to D.C and then New York again."

"Wow. Lotta back and forth. We lived in Staten Island when I was little, but I've mostly been in Brooklyn. I guess we have that in common."

He nodded with a smile. 

"So you served in World War II?"

"I did, but so did most men old enough in that time. Your grandpa probably served."

I frowned a little, trying to remember.

"I don't think so. I didn't really know him, but I don't think he did. He was a chemist or biologist or something. I think my dad once mentioned he worked for some scientific research program. The SSR maybe? But he was fresh out of college so he just kinda ran copies and took notes."

I looked at Mr. Grant. His eyes had widened and his jaw slacked a bit as if he was surprised by what I have said. 

"Your grandfather worked for the Strategic Scientific Reserves?"

"I think so, yeah."

"I owe a lot to the SSR. The people there sort of made me who I am today. Because of their program, I went on to meet my wife, I rescued my best friend, and I was able to experience life with much more in it than I thought I would get to have."

"I always assumed it was just weapons research and statistics. You made it sound a lot more heroic," I said. 

He was quiet for a moment. He fidgeted with the gold band on his ring finger. He sighed and then looked up at me. 

"Holly, why did you sign up for the adopt a grandparent program?" 

I thought it was an odd question, especially considering the way the conversation had been heading. 

"I don't know. I like being involved in the community. It seemed like a good way to meet someone with different and interesting life experiences and hear about them."

He nodded. 

"I signed up to be a part of this program because I haven't had anyone to tell the truth to. My wife passed a few years back, and she was my one and only confidant. And it's too soon to tell the other people that could relate. I suppose the optimist in me thought that maybe whatever teenager signed up to spend their afternoons with old people would be willing to hear me out." 

I didn't know what to say. I was confused and scared that he was going to reveal information that could be dangerous. Like he was going to admit to a crime or something and get me involved. 

"I'm not sure I know what you mean, Mr. Grant." 

"Please, call me Steven. And I think you're the kind of person who'll be interested in my story. Even if you don't believe me." 

I still didn't fully understand him, but the way he spoke had such honesty in it. He wasn't trying to pull one over on new, he was being genuine. And I wanted to hear what he had to say. 

"I've never been one to say no to a good story," I said. 

He smiled and then folded his hands on the table. 

"What I'm going to tell you is going to sound fake. It's going to sound like the ravings of an old man, and I should know. I was born in 1918, but I've technically been alive for almost 200 years. Although, I technically spent a good amount of that time on ice." He looked at me to see how I reacted. I was intrigued by his claim and wanted to hear more. He could see in my eyes that I was waiting for the story to continue. 

"Have you heard of Captain America?" he asked me. 

"Yeah. Everyone has." 

"What do you know about him?" 

"He was this soldier in WWII that got injected with a serum that enhanced his abilities. It affected muscle mass, metabolism, it essentially turned him into a super soldier. He fought Nazis. He had a team, the Howling Commandos. And then he crashed a plane into the ocean to prevent the weapons in it detonating at major cities. He sacrificed himself to save hundreds if not thousands. The plane and his body were never found."

"Good. You know the basics."

"There was a traveling exhibit about him at the museum once when I was a kid. I was in awe. I kinda went through a Captain America phase."

"I knew you would be able to appreciate my story. Holly, I'm going to tell you something very few people know. In fact, I sadly think that there might not be any living people with this information. My name isn't Steven Grant, it's Steve Rogers. I am Captain America."


	2. Day 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I go back to Golden Leaf and Mr. Rogers continues to recount things that were definitely not on my APUSH exam.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is betad by me, written by toastybeverage.

I had been going to the Golden Leaf Living Facility for about a week. We were only required to go once a week, but I was one of the few kids with a car that was in the program, so I already had to drive kids to the facility. I figured I might as well stay and talk to Mr. Grant—sorry, Mr. Rogers.

He was a nice old man. He seemed a little lonely, a little sad. But he had amazing stories. I thought he was lying most of the time; the things he said were probably just the delusions of an old man. But he told his stories with such vividness that part of me wanted to believe them.

He had said on the first day I met him that he was Captain America and in the following days, he worked through explaining his story to me. Apparently, when his plane went down, he was frozen in the ice then he was dethawed in 2011. He worked with these team of people called the Avengers, and apparently, they fought aliens and gods and robots. It sounded like something out of a movie. 

He told me they had fought this one alien, Thanos, who wiped out half the population with these things called the Infinity Stones. But of course, they used time travel to defeat him. The way he explained the time travel didn't really make sense to me, but maybe if I had done better than barely passing physics with a C, I would understand better. He had explained everything up to what he called his "current life"—the life that had him take on the name Steven Grant.

"You know you don't have to come every day, Holly," Mrs. Lain said to me when I entered the facility with my fellow classmates.

"I know, but I have a car so I feel obligated to drive the students that don't. Besides, I like coming here. Old people just have such interesting stories, and they probably enjoy the company more than they let on," I said, looking around for Mr. Rogers.

"Old people isn't a very nice way to discuss the elderly," Mrs. Lain said.

I nodded before spotting Mr. Rogers where he usually sat with a book by one of the windows. The nurses didn't even bother taking me over. They had seen me here enough that they were aware I knew where to go.

"Hi, Mr. Rogers," I said, sitting on the couch next to him.

"You can call me Steve, Holly.” He turned the page in his book, letting his eyes run over the pages in a quick motion.

"I just feel uncomfortable referring to adults by their first name,” I said shrugging. “I guess it's just how I was raised."

He finally closed his book, turning his full attention to me.

"Sarah?" he asked.

_This is it,_ I thought, _He really does have dementia or something. He's mistaken me for some past colleague or niece or something. Like in that one episode of Full House_.

He pointed at my jacket, obviously noting my confusion. "Who's Sarah?"

"Oh," I said, looking at the little embroidered name on the right chest of the jacket. "My mom. This was hers. It's not really her style anymore since she's not 16, so I snagged it."

"Huh, you know what's funny. My mom's name was Sarah." He got a funny little smile on around his mouth and I felt bad for this old man who probably lost his mom ages ago.

"I guess we have Brooklyn and moms named Sarah in common," I said, hoping that he wouldn’t get sad. I don’t know what I would do if this old man who thought he was Captain America and who apparently time traveled began to cry. 

"I guess we do," he chuckled.

We chatted for a bit. Basic small talk before I went and got coffee for both of us from the little station in the far corner. A nurse came by to check in, and we chatted with her for a minute. And then he sighed and nodded, a motion that told me that he would begin talking about his past.

"I told you about how we defeated Thanos?" He asked, rearranging his cardigan around himself.

"You did," I nodded, getting comfortable against the armrest of the couch.

"Well, after we defeated him, we needed to return the Infinity Stones. I volunteered. I went and returned all of them. And I knew I had to return to 2023. To the present—or technically future. But part of me was hesitant. I had always been a man out of time. I had never truly gotten the hang of living as a young man in the 21st century—it's hard to find someone with common history when you spent so much time in the ice. And there were things that I had wanted to do but didn't get to. I thought about it. If I went back in time, it would be starting a new timeline. I could take my knowledge of the future and change the past for the better. I know, it might sound selfish, but the decision came from a good place."

"What do you mean different timeline?" I asked. He liked it when I asked questions, it kept him talking and focused.

"The stories of my past that I've told you so far took place in a different timeline. After I returned all the Infinity Stones, I went back to 1945. And when I did that, it split off into another timeline. Kind of like when a highway splits."

It didn't make a ton of sense to me but I decided to give in to the willing suspension of disbelief and not question it too much. Besides, I wasn't even sure what he was saying was the truth, so it didn't really matter one way or the other if the logistics worked out. Still, I nodded to confirm that I understood, and then he continued.

"You know about how the Valkyrie went down in the Arctic. When I came back to 1945, I was in the Valkyrie. The plane still needed to go into the ice and the me from this timeline was already taking her down. I jumped out of the plane. The Captain America from this timeline didn't survive. But I did. I was starting to think my plan was a pretty stupid one. I was stranded in the Arctic and was freezing. I thought grimly that I was going to freeze again, only to be dethawed in another 90 years. But then I heard a plane approaching. It was Howard Stark. He had tracked the plane's location and found me. I passed out the second I got on board and when I woke up, I was in New York."

He told me about how he went on to work at the SRR with Howard and Peggy, who would go on to become his wife. He told me they finally got their dance, and he smiled when he said it. He told me about Hydra, and how they had found Bucky after his fall from the train and they had also injected him with a super serum. They were training him to be a weapon, the most efficient and terrifying assassin—the Winter Soldier. But Steve knew they were doing this to him. 

None of this was in my APUSH book.

"It took us two years of tracking down Hydra operatives and tracking their work, but we finally found their base. We found Bucky, and he got him out before too much damage was done. He still needed some therapy, some rehabilitation from his time with Hydra, but he recovered."

I think that's maybe the real reason he went back to 1945. Sure, there were other factors, but I think that Bucky played a role in that decision. He couldn't save him back then the first time, but he knew how he could save him the second time. 

"Did Bucky have to change his identity like you did?" I asked, taking a sip of my coffee, but before Mr. Rogers could answer me, a nurse called throughout the room.

"Don't forget, the V.A. will be meeting today in fifteen minutes."

"Do you ever go to the V.A. meetings?" I asked.

"Not usually, but Bucky tends to go pretty frequently."

I was shocked. "Bucky's still alive?" 

He chuckled. "He is. We both got injected with the super soldier serum, so that's helped both of us live to be pushing triple digit ages and still be going."

Triple digits? Mr. Rogers looks like he’s barely pushing 90. "If he goes to the V.A. meetings, I wonder if he knows my uncle. He works with the V.A."

"Your uncle's a veteran?"

"Yeah, Air Force. Two tours," I said proudly. 

Mr. Rogers opened his mouth to say something when someone called my name. 

"Holly?"

I turned around. There was a group of people moving chairs into a circle for the V.A. meeting and standing next to them was my uncle. I waved to him watching as he walked over. 

"Hey, what're you doing here? I didn’t know you traveled for V.A. meetings.” I got up to hug him, letting my full weight fall against his chest.

"The rep that usually comes to the Golden Leaf recently moved, so they needed someone else to cover. Figured I might as well volunteer."

I turned to Mr. Rogers who sat there with a smile like he was looking at an old friend. 

"Oh, I'm sorry how rude of me. Mr. Rogers, this is my uncle, Sam."

"Please, call me Steve," Mr. Rogers said as he leaned over to shake my uncle's hand.

"Nice to meet you, Steve. I'm Sam Wilson."

**Author's Note:**

> i think this is supposed to have multiple chapters? idk stay tuned.
> 
> find the original [here](https://www.wattpad.com/story/187121044-grandpa-steve) and find toastybeverage on twitter [here](https://twitter.com/UpdateFireworks?lang=en)


End file.
